Close Your Eyes and Jump
by Min the Noodle
Summary: Did you think it would be like the ballads? Fame and fortune, fighting for a noble cause: Those are lies. Little girl, this is the price of war. No glamor, no glory, just endless bloodshed. You'd better wake up to that fact, or you'll be the first to die.
1. Falling

Min the Noodle: YES! FINALLY! After telling y'all that I'd been writing all summer, I finally have something to show for it! After all that editing I put my poor friend PhoenixInfynity through, it was about time I got this stupid thing posted!

This is it. My Tactician Irene story. I took a chance and made an original character (and a female one at that), risking Mary-Sue flamers and major plot holes. Well, read it over and tell me what you think!

Special thanks to Link015, Lemurian-Girl, Oak, Lady Lyndis, MiSs JoVaNNa, R Amythest, and all of the anonymous reviewers for taking the time to look over my very first story, Priscilla's Gift, point out my mistakes to me, and leave a comment. You encourage me to keep writing. Thanks, everyone!

And now…. The disclaimer! I don't own Fire Emblem or the characters represented by this writing except for Felix and Irene Wu, who are figments of my imagination. But hey, we knew that.

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"Darn it, Felix! How long is this going to take?"

My older brother, Felix Wu, mechanical wiz and technical genius, poked his head out from under the machine and snorted in a very undignified way. "You've waited two years for this. You can wait another couple minutes."

Impatient, I rocked back and forth on the long-legged stool in the corner of Felix's workshop, also known as the Wu's family basement and garage. The old chair squeaked as I moved.

"Don't do that," came my brother's muffled voice from underneath the machine. "I don't want to be responsible for my little sister's fatal injuries."

"I'm fourteen, Felix. I know better than to fall off of a stool and crack my head open."

Felix grunted in reply. I sighed and fidgeted, toying with the end of one of my braids. Glancing to the right, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the window of Felix's old, beaten-up pickup truck. Almond-shaped brown eyes stared back at me from a face too round to be called oval and too long to be called completely round. Slender, golden cheekbones were framed by a pair of twin braids of a dark, mahogany brown that dangled a bit beyond my shoulders. I turned my gaze back to the machine Felix was working on.

For a while, the only sounds were the clanking of metal on metal and the drip-drip of oil. I stared at the ceiling, cracked and shedding bits of paint like little snowflakes. The sketchpad in my lap was filled with doodles. We had been down here since seven in the morning, and it was nearing noon. I glared at Felix, fidgeting and chewing on the end of my pencil. The near-silence was becoming unbearable.

Without warning, my older brother let out a whoop and slid out from underneath his invention. I yelped and almost ate my pencil. "Done!" he crowed triumphantly, brushing his long, uncut bangs from his eyes with hands stained and smudged with black, sticky grease. His goggles had made red marks on either side of his nose. "Done and finished!"

"Really?" I leaned forward eagerly, and, as the stool began to teeter precariously, jumped down from my perch. "Is it really ready? Let's try it out!"

"Hold on, Irene," he cautioned. Opening the door of the machine, he shooed our household dog, test subject of Felix's many experiments, inside. The black Lab, named Miep after my mother's aunt, had time for one imploring look before the door slammed shut on her nose.

Plunging his hands hastily in a tub of disinfectant and wiping them on his jeans, Felix hurried over to his computer and plopped himself down on his gray swivel chair. His fingers raced over the keys, entering equations and codes so complicated that they made my head spin just watching him. The capsule-shaped machine shone with a soft, white light, emitting from within the chamber where Miep rested. His computer screen cleared, then went black. I gasped. "Miep!"

"It's okay, Irene! I've got it under control!"

Large block formations appeared on the screen and began to make their way down to the bottom corners. Cheap sound effects rang as the blocks clicked together. I frowned, not understanding. "Great. You got yourself a slipshod puzzle game and Miep's nowhere in sight."

Felix laughed and pointed to a little black figure in the lower right corner. "Look! It works!"

My eyes widened and I leaned closer. "Miep! It's Miep!"

"Yes! Miep is in the Tetris game!"

We watched the little figure skitter around, avoiding the blocks. "That's amazing," I said. "But what if Miep gets hurt or dies?"

"She won't. That's the beauty of it. No matter what she feels in the game- and she _will_ feel things like fear, exhaustion, hunger, and pleasure- nothing will happen to her here in real life. In other words, if she gets squashed by one of these blocks, we won't find a pancaked Miep when we open that door." Felix hit a button and the screen faded out. The bright light shone again from the middle of the machine, then the door popped open and Miep stumbled out.

I watched the door of the chamber close, fascinated. "And it transports you-"

"To any movie, book, or story uploaded on my computer," Felix finished with a grin. "You wanna be the first to try it out? Other than Miep, I mean," he added, patting the dog's head affectionately.

"Can it do video games too?" I asked. A very interesting idea was forming in my head.

"You just saw Miep go through Tetris, didn't you?"

I was about to request my favorite video game, Final Fantasy Tactics Advance, when a thought occurred to me. If it was action I wanted, why not try out that strategy game everyone was talking about? What was it called again? Fire Emblem? Yes, that was it. If what my friends had said was true, I'd be seeing plenty of fighting.

"Y' got Fire Emblem on that computer of yours?"

Felix nodded and hit a couple of keys. The cover picture of Fire Emblem materialized onscreen, blown up to fill the poster-sized screen. "You bet." Leaning forward, he read, "'After centuries of peace, smoldering rivalries threaten to set the world aflame in a blaze of battle! The drums of war beat, noble houses plot treason, allies become enemies, and as Lycia stands poised for war, a shadowy figure manipulates empires for his own ends. Now, Lyn, Eliwood, and Hector must amass an army strong enough to fight back the forces that would destroy their homeland. Master battle tactics to douse the embers before they burn the world to ash.' Is this what you want?"

"Yeah," I said. My stomach tingled nervously. _Here goes nothing_, I thought.

Felix noticed my expression and raised an eyebrow. "Have you even played this game before, Irene?"

"Of course I have!" I retorted. Technically, it was true. I mean, I _had_ played the game, but I'd never said how far I had gotten in it.

"Okay. Just be careful." He motioned towards the machine and the door slid open.  
"Get in. I'll take care of everything else."

My palms felt clammy as I stepped through the doorway. I heard it slide shut behind me as I gazed at the small, white, and completely barren room I was in. My heart was pounding wildly; I could feel it thump as I stared at the wall, tapping my fingers over and over in my palms to stay calm. _I'm really going to be in Fire Emblem,_ I thought. _Wow! How often does a chance like this come around?_

Felix's disembodied voice echoed around me from hidden speakers in the chamber walls. "Relax and take a deep breath." I did what he asked. "Good. Now, I'll keep in touch with you during this whole venture. You'll be able to hear me, but nobody else will. I can pull you out at any time, so don't feel trapped. You'll be tactician. Any questions?"

Tactician. At least I knew about that. "Nope."

"Good. Are you ready, Irene?" he asked.

I clenched my fists and closed my eyes. "Yes."

"All right. All systems go."

The world dissolved into white.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

And then I was in the middle of a mass of screaming people, all stampeding, running for their lives. Confused and panicked, I whirled around, trying to get my bearings. What was going on? I didn't remember this part being in the game! Where was I?

A man in peasants' clothes rushed past me, almost knocking me down. "Attacking! They're attacking!" he shouted, drawing an old, rusty scythe like the ones used to cut grass from his belt. "To arms, men! To arms!" A crowd of villagers trailed after him, armed with pitchforks and homemade weapons. I pressed against a wall to avoid being crushed by the fast-moving flow of people. Attacked? Who was attacking us?

A look past the village gates answered my question. A hoard of axmen came pouring in from the mountains, only a few hundred yards from the village, brandishing their weapons and howling war cries. An advancing cloud of dust and the thundering sound of hooves warned me of a wave of cavaliers sweeping towards us.

Forcing my way through the crowd, I reached the foot of a ladder leading up to the top of the village's barricade. I threw myself at the rungs and began to climb. As I peeked over the top of the wall, an arrow whizzed past, not an inch from my face. It caught me unprepared. I yelped and almost let go of the ladder. As it was, I lost my footing and tumbled down a couple of rungs before my scrabbling hands managed to grasp ahold of it again. There I hung, legs dangling, fifteen feet above a moving, writhing mass of humanity. I watched in horror as the gates were breached and the axmen poured in. People fell like firewood before the murderous, cleaving weapons. _Where were Lyn's men?_ I wondered frantically. _Who would save the village?_

An axman looked up, blood dripping from his blade. He saw me, and a hideous smile broke out across his face. Hefting his weapon, he struck the ladder. It jerked violently and I lost my grip on one of the rungs. I grasped the remaining rung in a grip born of desperation, holding on with one hand. He swung again, and this last blow cleaved the ladder in half.

I let out a cry and plummeted downwards into a haystack, probably placed there to act as a cushion in case someone fell. As the bandit bent over me, I thrust my foot out hard. The thick-soled boot caught him square in the stomach. As the axman staggered back, clutching his stomach, I fought to untangle my legs from the confining tactician's robes I was wearing. Finally, I stumbled from the hay and dashed past the axman, tripping on debris and bodies. My throat tightened and I coughed as smoke from a burning wreck billowed overhead. The village was in flames. Bandits lugged sacks of stolen goods from houses, putting them to the torch as they left. Villagers lay scattered like broken dolls, dead on the ground. I stared, paralyzed, as the house directly in front of me collapsed into burning rubble.

A scream made me turn. A young woman clawed at a bandit, her back to the wall, fear in her eyes. The man laughed and knocked her down. As she struggled to rise, he raised his ax high for a killing blow.

I cast about for a weapon, any weapon. My eyes fell upon a broom handle, the head removed and burning on the ground. Snatching it up, I ran behind the bandit and rammed the end into his back. It entered about half a foot into his bare skin. Blood spurted from the wound in such measures that I must have struck an artery. Horrified, I let go and stepped back. The young woman scrambled to her feet and fled as the man keeled over, the broom handle protruding from his back like a spear.

Was he dead? Had I killed him?

There was no time to think of such things. A pair of bandits had spotted their fallen comrade and were headed my way. I turned and ran, but got no further than the first couple of steps. My foot got caught in a pile of rubble and I fell to my knees. Someone hit me hard at the base of my skull with the shaft of an ax. The last sound I heard before lapsing into unconsciousness was the sound of crackling flames.

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Min: I took the scenario from Chapter 14 of Eliwood's Story. Could you guess? As for the summary of Fire Emblem (the one on Felix's computer), that came from http/ Hopefully, I won't be hearing from some agent from gameexpress directly after posting this, demanding that I give them credit for the reference.

Chapter two of this will be coming out soon. Please let me know if you have any ideas. I'd appreciate your input!

Please leave me a review! And thanks, y'all!


	2. Waking Dreams

Min: Finally updated! School started four weeks ago and I've been busier than ever.

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to the Fire Emblem videogames. I _do_ own the rights to Irene and Felix Wu. Well, they own rights to themselves, I guess.

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My head throbbed, sending sharp spikes of pain through my mind. I couldn't feel my back; only a heavy, aching pain told my brain that I still had one. Something heavy was on top of me, like a beam or a large piece of rubble. I lay there on the ground, my cheek pressing against the dirt. It was hard; I felt little pebbles dig into my skin.

It was dark, but not as dark as it had been when the bandits had attacked. What had happened the night before? I struggled to think, but my mind was a haze, floating just out of reach. The village had been destroyed, but what next? Was anyone still alive? Or had the bandits killed them all?

Something shifted nearby; hands moved through my pockets, rummaging, digging in search of something valuable. That got my attention. Someone was trying to rob me!

I stirred, unable to move completely without my muscles screaming in protest. Someone yelped. A blond thief leapt back, a dagger in one hand. "Milord Hector!" he called. "This one's alive!"

A familiar-looking Sacaean woman, a mounted girl with a feather tucked behind one ear, and a heavily armored axbearer made their way through the smouldering wreckage that had once been a living, thriving village. I watched the girl's chestnut horse pick its way daintily towards me, its pretty white-socked hooves clopping over dirt and scattered hay. It looked so absurd in the middle of the filth and debris that I would have laughed if I could force my abused lungs to function.

"Good heavens!" The axman squared his shoulders and hefted the end of the beam. With a grunt, he heaved the thing off of me. I felt the weight lift from my back, but cried out when I tried to move. A searing pain lanced down my spine. What was wrong with me? Was my back broken?

Placing the beam on another pile of rubbish, the axman turned his attention back to me. He leaned close, running his hand through his close-cropped blue hair. I flinched away when I saw his weapon. "What have you dug up now, Matthew?" he boomed. "Some hardened criminal, a man-slaughtering bandit perhaps?"

The green-haired lady standing next to him stiffened. Her hand strayed to the katana-style weapon buckled to her side. "A bandit?"

The thief called Matthew snorted. "More like an innocent traveler by the look of it. Stop teasing, Lord Hector." Gently he propped me up in a sitting position. I bit down hard on my lip to stifle a moan of agony. Even the slightest movement sent sharp spikes of pain jutting into my back. I heard him suck in his breath as he saw the damage. "Good heavens, little one, you've a bump the size of Ostia on the back of your head. And your back- my word! Who did this to you?"

"Please, Sir Matthew," interjected the girl. "If you'll excuse my intrusion, perhaps I will be able to be of some assistance."

The axman raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you're up to it, Priscilla? Do you have enough energy left from the skirmish at Castle Caelin to do this?"

Priscilla bowed her head. "Yes, Lord Hector. The battle has taken some out of me, but I will be fine. I must help however I can." She looked up at him with green eyes awash with compassion. "Please…."

He smiled ruefully, chagrined. "You don't have to look at me like that, Priscilla. Do it."

Pricilla bobbed her thanks and knelt beside me, raising a staff topped by a glowing blue stone. Her lips moved soundlessly, chanting words that I could not hear. A soothing blue aura enveloped me, washing every worry I might have had from my mind. A cleansing force moved through me, healing my very soul. Skin and tendon knit themselves together; bruises faded and cuts closed. She lowered her white-gloved hands and the glowing light drained from me. I reached and felt the back of my head with hesitant fingers. The bump was gone. The pain in my back had faded to a soft, persistent throb.

The man whom Matthew had called Lord Hector hunched over beside me. "Now, lass, what were you doing here, and why is it that we found you here among this wreckage? Were you attacked when the village fell?"

A wave of dizziness swamped me without warning. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. As I swayed, spots dancing before my eyes, Matthew reached out a hand to steady me. A word forced its way past my dry tongue. "Felix…." I croaked.

Hector frowned. "Felix? Who is that?"

"Lord Hector!" Priscilla said. "Please! It's too soon after the healing-"

"Felix…. I… couldn't… save her…." My voice was slurring. My tongue refused to work; my breathing became heavier, my lungs feeling as if under heavy weights. The world became a swirling mass of blurry colors. Someone said something about a stretcher and I sank into blissful nothingness.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"So you're finally awake."

The voice belonged to a young man who looked to be three or four years older than me. In his hands he carried a tray of hot, steaming food. The click of his boots echoed hollowly on the stone floor; the hem of his crimson cloak whispered softly as it brushed against the ground. As he came closer, I could see that the color of his tunic was the same dark blue as the sheets of the bed I was in.

A bed?

Tentatively, I touched the sheets, then the pillow. They were the softest I had ever seen or been in. I glanced around, taking in the great stone walls of the spacious infirmary. Rows of beds lined either wall, all empty save mine. A merry fire danced in the hearth, lighting up the darkened room. The draping curtains of green and gold brocade were pulled shut.

The young man halted by the side of the bed, regarding me with eyes of an unusual shade of purple. Dark violet locks of hair tumbled down around his shoulders, giving him an almost effeminate look. "Hungry?" he asked, setting the tray down on a mahogany night table beside me. "It's evening already."

That got my attention. I sat bolt upright, ignoring a warning stab of pain from my back. "Evening? What? How long have I been asleep?"

He shrugged. "A day or so, in and out. Lady Lyndis and Lady Priscilla have been taking care of you the whole time. Lady Priscilla has hardly left your side since you came in." He was being carefully polite; I could see that by the wary way he looked at me out of the corners of the eyes.

"Lady Lyndis and Lady Priscilla," I mused, watching the fire leap up and down in its stone prison. "Well, _you_ sure don't look like a Lyndis or a Priscilla. What's your name?"

He reddened. "I'm _not_ Lady Lyndis or Lady Priscilla. My name is Erk. I'm a student mage. Lady Lyndis is the princess of Caelin, this region. Lady Priscilla, my employer, is a red-haired young woman blessed with a gentle touch, a gift of healing, and great beauty. I doubt I fit either of those descriptions."

So that was Priscilla who had healed me in the village. Oh, right. My brother had shown me a picture of her before. She was some kind of, of… trooping door? No wait, troubadour. That was it. The striking Sacaean woman of before had to be Lady Lyndis. I wondered what he meant by 'employer'. What was he, some kind of janitor?

I had to grin in spite of myself. "No, you don't. Lady Priscilla is much prettier than you are, anyway."

His face twitched; he smiled, relaxing a bit. "Do you know what a mess it would be if she wasn't?"

A soft knock on the door interrupted our conversation. The door slipped open a crack, and a small, pale face with wide green eyes appeared, peering into the room. The door continued to open, and Priscilla stepped into the room. Timidly she approached. Erk turned, and, seeing her, bowed. "Ah. Lady Priscilla." His voice was blandly reserved again. "Good to see you. Weren't you in the castle infirmary tending to Marquess Caelin?"

Priscilla shook her head. "Oh no," she said. "Lady Lyndis wanted to be alone with Lord Hausen for a while." She seated herself in a chair next to my bed and laid a hand on my forehead. "Ah, good. You're much better now. The fever's gone down considerably. That bit of rest did you a world of good."

"Thank you, Lady Priscilla," I said. Wincing, I reached up under my shirt to feel my back. My fingers met soft cloth underneath where skin should have been. I gasped. "Ah! My back-! What's wrong with it?"

"Apparently a burning piece of debris fell on you before we reached you," Erk told me. "It did some damage; a couple of ribs were fractured and your back's burned pretty badly. Lady Priscilla mended most of it, but you'll need time to heal. It won't scar, but it'll hurt for quite a while." He nudged the tray towards me. "Eat something. You'll feel better."

I tried to push it away. "I'm not hungry, thanks."

Erk inclined his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Liar. Your stomach's growling."

Resigned, I picked up the spoon and took a bite of the strange lumpy substance inside of the bowl. It was porridge, sweet and tasty. "Wow, this is good!" I managed through a mouthful of porridge.

He laughed. "I'll tell Lowen you liked it. He takes his cooking very seriously."

"Lowen?" I asked. "Who's that?"

"Cook and cavalier. He's quite talented." He looked at me. "So, Girl Who Likes Lowen's Cooking, do you have a name?"

"Irene." I took another bite. "This stuff sure beats Felix's cooking. He'd burn a salad if left alone with it for more than ten minutes."

"Felix? Who's that?"

Suddenly wary, I peered at him over the rim of my bowl. He was watching me intently, his eyes dark and intense. What was with the sudden interest in Felix? And how did he know who my brother was? "Why?" I demanded suspiciously.

"You kept calling out for him in your sleep. 'Felix, Felix, I'm sorry…. I couldn't stop them…. Please, Felix…. I want to go home.'"

The memories of the night before came back to me in a rush. Running, terror thick in the air as it clogged my senses. People screaming, flailing, dying in the streets, staining the dirt a dark, dark red. And the young woman-

My appetite was gone. I placed the spoon back on the tray and handed it back to him. I flashed him a false smile. "Thanks, Erk, but I'm full." He looked sharply at me, and I could tell he wasn't fooled.

"You only took two bites!" Priscilla protested. "You won't recover fast if you don't eat."

I sighed. "I'm sorry, Lady Priscilla, but I really can't eat any more."

The troubadour took the mug from the tray and stirred the contents. Then she offered it to me. When I opened my mouth in protest, she put her finger to her lips. "Drink," she said gently but firmly. "This is a special tea. It'll help you get better. It induces sleep and prompts your body to heal itself naturally."

I nodded and held out my hands for the mug. As I sipped, I could feel my eyelids growing heavy. Hands took the mug from me, and I slept.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

My dreams were plagued by scenes of the village raid, replaying over and over in my head. I would wake up screaming in the middle of the night. I whimpered into my pillow as the horrific images of the slain villagers haunted me, reaching out to me with cold, dead, rotting hands. Their expressions were ones of shock, fear, and hatred, frozen for eternity on faces blackened by burns and stained by blood. Filthy brigands holding sacks of loot slew the helpless civilians with rusting axes and battered swords. Their faces were lit up with the savage joy of killing.

In my dream, I ran through the streets again, searching for someone. Frantically shoving through the crowds of frenzied people, I called out until my voice felt raw, but still I saw no sign of her. The world flipped, and I was falling again, shrieking as the two halves of the ladder plummeted to earth above me. I felt like a rag doll, a small, insignificant thing, helplessly falling from the edge of a cliff. This time there was no haystack. I hit the ground hard, feeling and hearing the loud _crack!_ that sent a spear of pain jutting down my back. The bandit loomed over me, grinning with broken teeth. I couldn't move as I watched the ax come slicing down-

And suddenly I stood from afar as a spectator, watching as the bandit raised the ax high. The young woman I had tried to help shrieked and stumbled to her feet. I tried to run towards them, tried to make some kind of noise, but my throat wouldn't work, and my feet wouldn't move. The woman had run only a dozen feet or so when the ax sprouted from her shoulder, cleaving her in half. I screamed as the two pieces of her corpse fell to the ground. The bandit caught his hand ax and turned towards me, bringing it back for a throw-

"Irene! IRENE!" Hands were shaking me awake. I sat up with a gasp, tears coursing down my face. Erk held my shoulders, staring at me with that same intensity I had seen during his first visit two days ago. I didn't recognize him at first and let out a cry of rage and fear. "_You animal!" _I flailed at him, but his arms were longer than mine and I couldn't reach him. I spent my energy and collapsed, sobbing.

"Irene! It's okay; it was only a dream." I turned away, my eyes wild and uncomprehending. He shook me. "It's me! It's Erk! Remember? Come on, Irene! Snap out of it!"

I stared up at him. "-Erk?" I asked, my voice quailing. "Erk? Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me. You're all right, you're all right," he soothed, like one would comfort a newborn babe. I continued to sob, burying my head deep into my arms. I wanted to burrow under my blankets and die of shame.

We sat there in awkward silence for a few minutes, the quiet broken only by my muffled sniffs. Erk turned to gaze out the window as I collected the shattered remains of my pride. As the sounds died away, he said softly, "Why don't you tell me what you saw two nights ago in the village?"

So I did, telling him of the events that had occurred, from when I climbed the ladder to when I was knocked unconscious by one of the bandits. "I couldn't save her," I whispered, staring down at my sheets. My hands clenched; the blanket crumpled. "That girl- I tried to help her, and they killed her only a few seconds later."

The mage said nothing. I wanted to rip the blanket to shreds, so intense was the memory. "Why didn't I do anything?" I cried out, furious at myself. "I wasn't strong enough, wasn't-" I stopped abruptly. There was nothing more that I could say.

"Why do you think people go to war?" Erk asked me at long last. There was no sarcasm in his question. "Not the nobles in their silly disputes. The common soldiers, the village people? Some of them enjoy fighting, but they're a small minority. Most of them would rather plod away in their little vegetable gardens, tending their crops and enjoying life's small pleasures."

I listened silently. The moonlight filtered in through the soft cloth under the decorative drapes, which had been pulled back, barely illuminating the room.

"Some fight for glory, some for wealth. The majority, though, have no desire to throw their lives away for a cause so obscure that they cannot see before their eyes. _Why bother with what might happen tomorrow, or in a month, or in a year? _they wonder. No, they don't do it for themselves. They do it for their friends and families. If they go to war, then their families will be safe.

"You say you're not strong enough. So make yourself strong. Protect those who cannot protect themselves. So what if you're not a hero? Not many people are. I believe it's something you're born to be, and very few have the gift the way Lord Eliwood, Lord Hector, and Lady Lyndis do. Everyone else? They're just normal, mundane people like you and me.

"You see? That is why we fight. We fight-" His eyes slid away, out the window, and I knew he was thinking of the red-haired troubadour. "We fight to protect those we care about most, so that while we are here, no one will hurt them ever again."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I stayed in the infirmary for about a week, healing and listening. Once, while I pretended to sleep, I overheard voices outside in the hall.

"Do you really mean to secure passage to the Dread Isle, Eliwood?" It was the voice of Lord Hector.

"Yes." An unknown male voice with a hint of authority spoke. This must be Eliwood, son of the missing Marquess Pherae. I had often heard Erk and Priscilla speak of him in low tones when they thought I was asleep. "My father… He's there. I have to find him. He knows the truth."

_The truth?_ I wondered. _The truth about what?_

"I still can't believe Laus is preparing for war," said a person whom I identified as Lady Lyndis. "It all seems so unbelievable."

"Erik, the Marquess's son, always was a lout," Hector snorted. "Even back in our school days. Traitorous cur."

"Lyndis," Eliwood said gently, "maybe you had better stay behind. For your own good."

"No!"

"But Lyndis-"

"Is it because I'm a woman? Is that it! Is this some sort of Lycian chivalry?" Lyn's voice rose. "Are you trying to protect me, Eliwood! I can handle combat just as well as you, and if you think I'm willing to just sit by and watch-"

"Are _you_ trying to wake the whole castle?" interrupted Hector. "Because the way you two are going at it, I wouldn't be surprised if the entire staff came running in thinking you were being killed."

Eliwood lowered his voice. "All I'm saying is that Lord Hausen might need you by his side while he recovers. You're his only family left, Lyndis."

"He'll be all right. He's recovering quickly, and I told him I would be leaving with you." Her last sentence was a whisper that I could barely hear. "And I… I can't do anything else for him. I'd just be in the way."

Eliwood's footsteps crossed towards her. "Lyndis…."

She broke away. I heard her run until her footfalls died away down the corridor. After about a minute of silence, Eliwood sighed. "Lyn…."

"Go back to bed, Eliwood," his friend advised. "Get some sleep. You can worry about Lyndis later."

"Ah, of course." But he sounded unconvinced. "Good night, Hector."

The sounds of their footsteps faded softly away, leaving me alone in the dark with a ravenous curiosity and many new things to ponder.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Min: Don't worry; Irene won't be paired with anyone. I tried to make her too young to be romantically involved with any of the others. She might have _thoughts_, but no romance. Will y'all do me a favor and tell me if she turns too Mary-Sue or if personalities start to wheel off track? Oh, and please leave a review on the way out. Reviews are kind of like getting letters; it makes you feel warm all over when you get a personal message from people who care. Thank you, Aesahaettr's Might, Sir Geroff of the Wind (and I _do_ think it would be easier to write in third person, too, but it's a bit late for that now, isn't it?), Lemurian-Girl, and Link015, for reviewing for me!


	3. Of Windows and Serras

Min: Sorry it's been so long! I just got done with finals last Thursday and I've been frantically working on my science semester project, so I haven't had much time to update. I actually wrote this a while ago, but I haven't had the chance to type it up and edit it on the computer.

Much thanks to three special people:

Lemurian Girl: Hehe, thanks übermuch! It's so easy to write about bloodthirsty kiddies barely out of middle school who go around killing everyone they see once they find out that they have "special powers". Hearing that Irene's different really makes me feel better about writing as her. Since she doesn't have any special skills or remarkable stats or anything, she has to rely mostly on her wits. Make sure to tell me when they're OOC! (I really need to play my game a little more….)

Link015: Thanks! I'm glad that you liked it! I hope I live up to your expectations! You and Lemurian Girl are always so supporting! Oh, and by the way, when's your next birthday? (I think you know what I'm plotting…. Mehehe.)

Lao Who Mai: You're completely right! It's one thing to have your character run around slaying people- and it's a completely different thing to actually kill someone, even during wars in this day and age. I'm happy to hear that someone knows what I meant when I put that part in!

I'mma stop blathering and get on with it already. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to the Fire Emblem games- and probably never will.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Anima magic? What's that?"

By six days in the infirmary, I had recovered enough to sit up and walk twice the length of the infirmary's hall. I sat at the wooden table in the corner, directly across from Erk. The purple-haired mage was deep into a fat, dusty tome, poring over its pages almost ravenously. A pile of books was heaped up beside him, towering past his shoulders and taking up more than half of the table. I repeated my question, seeing that Erk hadn't heard a single word.

"So what's anima magic?"

Erk paid no notice whatsoever. I sighed and cupped my hands around my mouth. "ERK!" I bellowed in a voice that would have impressed a drill sergeant. "WHAT'S ANIMA MAGIC!"

The mage made an odd noise somewhere between a shriek and a hiccup and jumped a foot in his chair. The tome leapt up as the table lurched, snapping shut and almost catching the tip of his nose in its musty pages. "Don't do that!" he snapped irritably. "I'm reading!"

"I can see that," I retorted. "You were so absorbed in that book of yours that you didn't hear me the first two times I asked you my question! What's anima magic?"

He frowned. "Anima magic? Anima magic controls and manipulates the elements of nature. It's an excellent way to bring down big units like armored knights and generals, but it's not particularly strong against dark magic."

"Dark magic?" I asked, painfully aware of how stupid I looked. "Generals? Knights? Light and darkness?"

"No, not light magic! That's the opposite of dark magic!"

"Huh?"

He gave an exaggerated sigh of long-suffering. "Read a book," he told me impatiently. "There are countless tomes in the library about the nuances of light, dark, and anima magic."

"But I don't want to know about the nuances," I explained patiently. "I want to know what they are."

"So read a book!"

"Why can't you just tell me?" I demanded.

"Because," he shouted, "I'M reading!"

I sighed and reached across the table, appropriating one of the tomes in the pile. Flipping it over, I read the title. "The History and Science of Anima Magic." I yawned. "Sounds fatally interesting." I thumbed through the pages, wrinkling my nose at the incomprehensible jargon. "Good heavens, how do you stay awake while reading this?"

"That's one of my favorites!" Erk said indignantly, reclaiming the book from my hands and wiping its cover painstakingly. "It's a thorough guide that delves deep into the very roots of the art of anima magic, tracing its origins from the first spells in the ancient language of-"

I let out a loud snore, my head nestled in my arms and resting on the tabletop. Peeking at him through the slits of barely opened eyes, I was rewarded by the sight of the mage's tirade. "I can't believe you!" he yelled, waving the book at me in a fit of infuriation. "This is one of the most fascinating books I've ever read! How could you possibly find it boring!"

"BECAUSE YOU WON'T TELL ME WHAT ANIMA MAGIC IS!" I hollered.

"I JUST DID!" he shrieked.

A woman in a white healer's uniform stuck her head in through the doorway. "Keep it down in there!" she snapped in a very un-healer-like fashion. "Some of us are _trying _to work in here!"

We promptly obeyed, clamping our mouths shut. After a few seconds, Erk leaned in towards me and whispered hoarsely, "This is your fault."

I lowered my voice. "It was _not_, Mr. No-Personality. If you weren't so absorbed in your books-"

"I am not absorbed in my books!"

"Of course you're not," I said agreeably. He opened his mouth to protest, but I beat him to it. "Listen, I overheard you talking about this anima stuff-"

"Anima magic."

"-Anima magic, whatever. Anyway, I want to study it and some of the other techniques and weapons this army uses, but I _don't_ want to spend hours and hours reading dusty old books until I develop a permanent crick in my neck and a squint like an old lady's." I paused for effect. "So I want you to teach me."

That wasn't what he had been expecting. "What?"

"Who else? Priscilla's busy, and you probably know more about it than anyone else here, what with you always having your nose buried in a book. You can develop dust allergies that way, you know. It's very unhealthy."

"You want to learn how to use anima magic?"

"No," I told him. "I want to learn _about_ it. I know virtually nothing about this army, and that irritates me. I don't like being irritated. If I'm to survive here, I need to learn all I can about this place and the people inside it."

He looked skeptical. "Do you even know how to read?"

"I'm not _that_ stupid! It's just easier for me to learn if someone lays it all out for me."

The mage shrugged. "Just checking. You would be surprised if you knew how few people could read." He stopped for a while, tracing patterns on the cover of The History and Science of Anima Magic with an index finger. Then, slowly, "I suppose I could teach you, even if only a little bit. Will you promise to pay attention?"

"I promise!" I said with all the sincerity I could muster. "I'll be the best student you've ever had!"

"Not to mention the only student I'll probably ever _have_," he remarked dryly.

I beamed up at him, putting on my best eager-student face. "Then I guess I'll just have to be twice as good," I told him brightly, barely stifling a giggle at the face he made at that statement. Then, resuming a normal tone of voice, I leaned in and whispered to him,

"So, er, what _is_ anima magic?"

Erk rubbed his forehead. "What have I gotten myself into?" he lamented.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

One morning, seven lessons and ten days after I had found myself in the care of the army, I received a visit from a most distinguished person: Lady Lyndis herself. I was eating breakfast with Erk during one of our now-frequent learning sessions, listening as my purple-haired tutor attempted to explain the different classes of warriors.

The mage was lecturing me in the difference between myrmidons and mercenaries when the door swung open. "No, no, you're getting it wrong," he was telling me. "Myrmidons have less defensive power and strength because they wear lighter armor and rarely carry heavy weapons. They rely on primarily speed. Mercenaries are completely different."

"But aren't they the same?" I was completely confused. "If you're a soldier for hire, doesn't that immediately make you a mercenary? Myrmidons _are_ paid, right?"

"Of course they're paid. No one would enlist without being paid."

"So then they're mercenaries."

"No, they're not."

"But-"

"Am I interrupting something?" inquired a new voice. Turning in my seat, I instantly recognized the young woman I had seen the night I had been rescued. It was none other than the Sacaean Lady Lyndis, princess of Caelin.

Erk spun and, seeing Lyn, simultaneously choked on a piece of toast, snagged his cloak on his chair, and tripped. "Lady Lynd- oof!" The chair came crashing down on top of him with a rather ominous crunching sound.

"Erk!" I leaned over the side of the table, genuinely concerned. My tutor probably wouldn't be able to function properly with a broken skull. "Hey, are you alright?" I accompanied this query with a tentative poke at the mage's prone form.

Erk got to his feet, coughing. "Yes, I'm fine." Righting his chair, he turned back to Lyn and bowed hastily. "Good morning, Milady. I- I apologize- I was distracted and- I- I'm so sorry- I just-" It occurred to me that my normally poised teacher was babbling.

"Peace, Erk," Lyn said. The mage ceased talking halfway through a word and nodded rapidly, red-faced. Lyn smiled at him and took a seat beside us. "May I join you?" she asked.

"We would be honored, Milady," I replied politely. Inwardly, though, I wondered at the purpose of her visit. I watched her over the pages of my book as she sipped juice from a slim wooden cup, staring intently at the text of the tome instead of at the Sacaean girl sitting across from me. A chill settled over me; I remembered the look on her face that night, the way she had reached for her sword. The princess of Caelin didn't make social calls. What was the purpose of this visit- and why the sudden interest in me?

Lyn wiped her lips daintily on a plain linen napkin. Setting it down beside her plate, she leaned forward to speak. "Your name is Irene, I believe?" I nodded. "I am Lyndis, as you may already know. The Marquess of Caelin, Lord Hausen, is my grandfather."

I _did_ already know. I glanced down at my hands, folded primly in my lap. They were shaking; I steeled them, pushing nervousness down deep into my gut. This young woman made me uneasy, the way her eyes watched me, so clear, so unwavering. It seemed almost as though she could see into my soul. "Yes, Milady. Erk told me."

Her gaze slid over to the mage sitting beside her. "Well done, Erk. Now, Irene, tell me. Where are you from, and who is this Felix you spoke of the night we rescued you?"

Here was the hard part. I had spent many nights staring at the ceiling, devising a story plausible enough to ward off any messy questions. I prayed fervently that the semester and a half of drama class I had taken back home would kick in. "Milady, Felix is my brother. He and I- and our parents- live in a town far away from here." At least that part was true. I took a deep breath and let it out, calming my frantic heart. _Keep it simple._ "Then, about two weeks ago, Felix sent me to meet up with a band of mercenaries he had traveled with before. He said it would be good practice for me, being his apprentice and all. I stopped in the village overnight, and then…." I let my voice trail off, letting my gaze drift downwards.

"The bandits attacked and burned it down," finished Lyn softly. She stared into the cup of juice she clasped between her hands, as if trying to decide whether to believe my story. I held my breath. Finally, she turned and looked directly into my eyes. It felt as if someone had whacked me in the stomach with a steel rod. "I believe you, Irene," she said.

The guilt jabbed deep into my heart. I hated lying, and lying to someone like Lyndis…. It was despicable. "I- my people…." Lyn drew in her breath and smiled bravely. "My mother and father, along with the rest of the Lorca tribe, were slaughtered by roving brigands." Her mouth trembled, but she held her head high. "I, too, have witnessed the horrors of bandits. You have nothing to lose by telling the truth."

_Nothing at all,_ I thought as I watched her rise. _Nothing, except for your trust._

"I'll visit again," Lyn said, setting down the cup. "When your burns are almost completely healed, we'll discuss what to do with you. Until then, relax and rest. We will make sure no further harm comes to you." Pushing in her chair, she started for the door. She paused at the threshold and looked over her shoulder. "You're safe here, little one. It'll be all right." And Lyn was gone.

I felt awful. How could I have known that Lyn's family had been murdered by bandits? Lyndis and her companions had taken me in, sheltered me…. And now I had lied to them. How would they react if they found out I had deceived them?

The door hinges squeaked; I looked up, my thoughts interrupted. Matthew stood in the doorway, carrying a large, canvas-wrapped bundle under one arm. A bit of pink hair peeked out from behind him. I frowned. Who was that?

Matthew waved and walked towards me. "Well, if it isn't the village girl!" he greeted me cheerily. "So, how fare you in this closet of an infirmary? Reasonably stifled? Has Erk talked your ear off yet?"

I heard Erk let out a snort of derision and snickered. The mental picture of Erk droning on and on about his precious tomes of anima magic as I nodded off to sleep seemed an all too possible fate.

The thief smiled encouragingly. "Now that's the spirit. You'd looked as if a frog had left some sort of unhealthy deposit on your face when I first came in."

I grinned. "Delightful, isn't it?"

It was really quite ridiculous, and Erk apparently thought as much. The mage sighed and rolled his eyes skyward, propping his chin up with one hand. Matthew turned on him and winked saucily. "As for you, my purple-haired friend, I have someone with me who can't wait to see you."

He motioned behind him. An unearthly screech pierced the air and I covered my ears, wincing. Someone yelped outside; a glass vase shattered. "ERKY!"

Erk stood up so fast that he knocked his chair over, sending it crashing to the ground. His teacup fell with a smashing sound, shattering upon impact. My head snapped towards him, startled. His face was ashen; his fingers trembled violently. His expression was one of pure, unadulterated terror. "Serra," he whispered in horror.

I glanced from Matthew, who wore a look of smug satisfaction, to Erk, now twitching in a decidedly unhealthy way. "Serra?" I inquired. "Who's that?" I cast a worried glace at the mage. "Maybe you ought to lie down, Erk. You look ill."

He didn't seem to hear. "You- you wouldn't," Erk accused Matthew hoarsely. He looked on the verge of panic.

Matthew grinned back at him, showing all of his teeth. "Oh, but I would."

"ERKY!" came the ear-rending screech again. Erk let out an oath so vehement that it sent the head healer scrambling under her chair for safety. The pink hair emerged from behind the thief, attached to the head of a girl dressed in a white smock.

Erk bolted. He shot from the chamber faster than any Olympic track runner, like Indiana Jones being chased by a giant rolling boulder, upsetting papers and draperies. I heard an indignant squawk as the mage almost bowled over a maid in his haste to exit the room.

Pink Hair blinked and looked around the infirmary. Puzzled and finding no answer to her inquiry, she began to search the room, rummaging through cabinets and lifting cushions, muttering under her breath.

"Um," I said somewhat tentatively, "excuse me, Miss, but… what are you doing?"

"Looking for Erk," she said matter-of-factly, plucking a sprig of cherry blossom from a slender-necked vase and squinting nearsightedly into the mouth. Finding no mage hiding among the flowers, she placed the branch back in the vase and straightened, hands on her hips. She glared, scanning the room for any telltale signs of the departed Erk, and pouted. "Where _is_ he?" she demanded in a shrill, high-pitched voice as I looked on, bemused. "Oh, drat! I could have sworn he was right here a second ago. Where could he have gone?"

"Out the door?" suggested Matthew delicately.

Pink Hair frowned, furrowing her brow. Then she brightened. "But of course," she declared, tossing her head. Her pigtails bounced. "The poor fool was obviously so dazzled by my presence that he had to dash to the washroom to make himself more presentable." She let out a dramatic sigh and giggled at the same, which both impressed and perplexed me. "I'm so beautiful it kills me sometimes."

I suspected that Erk _had_ run to the washroom- for an entirely different reason. I had a feeling that he would be spending a long evening lurking in the privy and hiding behind mops. Now, watching this strange female who had invaded my room, I began to wonder if I should have followed his example.

Mathew waved towards the pink-haired girl. "This is Serra," he drawled, "cleric in service to House Ostia, professional window-breaker, and number-one Erk repellant. And this is Irene, village girl and… um, village girl. Serra, Irene. Irene, Serra."

I hadn't even time to open my mouth when suddenly she was right there, pumping my arm up and down with the strength of a professional pitcher. I felt something in my arm pop. "Oh my goodness!" she squealed. "Omigosh! Omigosh! Your name's Irene? I absolutely _love_ that name! I've always wished I were named something like that! Actually, Serra's not too bad, is it? At least I wasn't named something like Gertrude. Now that's an icky name. It even makes your mouth make weird shapes. Look- GER-" She twisted her face and literally mooed out the last syllable. "TROOD!"

Then, without break, she suddenly switched back to her original thought. I blinked in astonishment; it was like she'd never deviated. "Omigosh! I mean, your name's _Irene_! Isn't that funny? That is, like, SO AWESOME! We were obviously meant to be friends!"

Feeling thoroughly bowled over by this gushing fountain of words, I managed to stammer, "Er, y-yes, nice to meet you too," before I was interrupted again.

"Yes, we'll be the best of friends, won't we, Irene? Of course we will! Why, with me at your side, you'll be invited to countless balls and occasions! I _am_ quite popular, you know. I'll give you a personal tour around Castle Caelin- I've been _everywhere_, I swear! Oh, but it's so big. Don't worry, we won't get lost! I'll even introduce you to the Lords Eliwood and Hector!" She flapped her hand at me. "Yes, yes, I'm quite generous, I know. After all, not many noblewomen would go out of their way to do things like this. And I _am_ noble, straight down from Etruria's bluest-blooded lines. I can tell you're impressed!"

"Um," was my diplomatic response.

She waved cheerily and bounced up and down. "Now, now, no need to thank me!" she chirped. "I love doing things for the less fortunate! After all, not everyone is blessed with my stunning beauty and incomparable charm! I'll visit later, and I'll bring flowers! Ta-ta, dear Irene! Try not to miss me utterly!"

The door slammed shut and I was left gaping, attempting to form some sort of intelligent sentence. It was as if that girl had stolen every word from my lips, and quite possibly every word within a five-mile radius. "Wha- wha-"

Matthew noticed and burst out laughing. "Serra has that effect on most people," he explained. "I think a couple of her victims are still in shock years after coming into contact with her. Take Erk, for example. The poor fellow had to escort her to Ostia about a year ago, just the two of them. Now whenever he sees someone with pink hair he freezes and goes into a state of paralysis. It's really quite amusing. One time he jammed up, tripped, and fell into the town well right in front of a troop of Pegasus Knights. We had to fish him out before he drowned."

"W-what- what was _that_?" I managed to gasp out, finally finding my tongue. It occurred to me that Serra might have stepped on it on her way out. "For Pete's sakes, her ego's bigger than Caelin! I've never seen anyone so completely oblivious!"

"Mmm, yeah. That just about sums up Serra." Matthew leaned back against his chair, propping his feet up on the table. "She seems to have taken a shine to you," he commented. "That's good- provided she doesn't kill you with her incessant chatter. From what I gathered, you'll be seeing a lot of her during your stay."

"She's like this _all_ the time?" _Oh, great._ I moaned and flopped back against my pillow. "I'm doomed," I muttered darkly to no one in particular. "Pray for my soul- and for my poor, devastated ears."

Matthew laughed and tossed the cloth-wrapped bundle he had been carrying on the sheets of my bed. "Oh right," he said cheerily, "this is for you. In all the excitement I almost forgot."

I thanked him and began to undo the cord holding the bundle together. The wrappings fell away to reveal several scrolls of aged parchment. Leaning closer, I spotted something peeking out from behind a dusty page. Frowning, I peeled the parchment back to get a better look. Tucked between two of the scrolls was a plain, sheathed blade the size of a long kitchen knife.

My eyes widened; I jerked back and hit my head on the headboard with a solid _thunk_. Then Matthew was there, pressing the knife into my hand. He curled my fingers around it until I had a firm grip on the leather sheath. "Don't you _ever_ let go of this," he whispered in my ear. "It's a dangerous, treacherous world out there, and you never know when you might need to defend yourself. Promise me you'll keep with you at all times. _Promise!_" he urged when I didn't answer.

Startled by the sudden intensity in his voice, I gave a reluctant nod. Immediately he grinned, relaxing back in his seat. "Very good," he encouraged. Seeing my perplexed look, he laughed apologetically. "Sorry to scare you like that," Matthew said ruefully, raking his fingers through his hair, "but this is extremely important. I didn't want you shrugging it off. Then again, after that one night, you're not likely to forget." He ruffled my hair. "You're obviously not a warrior, poor kid. How old are you, anyway?"

"F-fourteen." My voice quivered. Was he mad at me?

"No wonder." He leaned his elbows on his knees and smiled. "Don't mind me, Irene. I'm not angry with you. I just don't want you to end up dead like the rest of the people in that village. Next time the bandits come, at least you'll be ready." He unrolled one of the scrolls. "Now, the scrolls are maps of the surrounding areas and of the continent of Elibe. I thought you might want to get to know the surrounding area a bit better."

He paused and regarded me thoughtfully. "I overheard you telling Lady Lyndis that you were on your way to meet up with a mercenary group. You're an apprentice, right? What kind? Tailor?" I shook my head. "Fletcher? Blacksmith? Cook? Healer?"

"No," I said to each in turn.

He tapped the scroll with a finger and cocked his head. "Well? Scribe? Hunter? Fisher?"

"Artist," I supplied.

Matthew frowned. "But what use would a mercenary group have for an artist? That can't be it. There's something you're not telling me. What are you hiding, Little Irene?"

Mentally I kicked myself. _Artist? What kind of answer was that?_ I had to come up with something fast- Matthew was becoming suspicious, and I was fresh out of ideas.

_Tactician._

I felt a cool breath of wind on my neck; a whisper in a voice I recognized instantly brushed against my ear. _Tactician, Irene, _it prodded._ Remember?_

Felix! I whipped around, but bumped into the headboard again with a yelp. Felix was here! I'd heard him somewhere around here- but I couldn't see him. Where was he?

The thief eyed me, amused, as I winced and scooted away from the fiendish piece of furniture. "Did an answer hit you in the head?" he teased.

In a sense it had. Felix had given me a way out of this potentially sticky situation. "Tactician," I said. "I- I'm a tactician."

Matthew whistled in admiration. "A strategist! Now those aren't common. I wouldn't run around letting everyone know that I was a tactician, either. No wonder you didn't want to tell me!" He patted me on the head. "What a stroke of luck! Now those maps I brought you will be doubly useful!"

My mouth almost dropped open. He wasn't going to question me?

The thief rose and stretched. "Well, I'll leave you to your maps." He winked and grinned. "Good bye, Little Irene. Study hard and get some fresh air once in a while, lest you die of suffocation!" Sweeping into an exaggerated bow, he backed out of the room.

As soon as he was gone, the disembodied voice was back in my ear. "Irene! Irene, are you okay? Oh god, Mom is going to kill me! What's going on? Why are you in the infirmary? Are you hurt?"

"Felix!" I hissed furiously. I swatted at my ear and felt nothing extraordinary there. "You idiot! Your stupid machine dropped me into the middle of a besieged village and a burning rafter fell on me!"

"_What!_"

"You heard me! Some bandits whacked me over the head with an ax! Lyn and her friends found me and kept me alive, no thanks to _you!_" I was infuriated. "I almost _died!_ You told me I wouldn't be in any danger!"

"You _weren't_!" Felix snapped. "Weren't you listening to me? I told you that no matter what happened in the game, you'd be safe here in the real world!"

Suddenly I felt very, very stupid. "You did?"

"_Yes!_" His answer exploded in my ear and I yelped. "I _DID!_"

"Oh," I said sheepishly.

I heard Felix sigh and imagined him burying his head in his hands. "Look," he said exasperatedly, "you said that a burning beam fell on you, right? That would cause some serious burns and fractures, not to mention the internal damage. Don't you think that it would hurt quite a bit more than your back hurts right now?"

"Er…." He was right. My skin stung a little and my back was a constant throbbing ache, but it should have hurt much more if the burns were as bad as Priscilla had described. I slipped out of bed and stretched. Turning with both hands clasped above my head, I caught sight of a large, full-body mirror hanging in the healers' quarters next door. Curious, I made my way towards the doorway and saw my reflection for the first time since I had arrived in Elibe.

I was draped in a loose, forest-green tunic-like garment that looked a size or two too big. A long-sleeved shirt and leggings of a rich, chocolate brown covered me from ankle to wrist, its high collar enclosing my throat up to the chin. The heavy tactician's robe, newly repaired, lay on an armchair along with a cloak of the same dark green as my tunic. Sturdy boots, the ones I had been wearing before, sat next to the armchair. A couple of pieces of metal lay next to them. A loose hat with two long flaps down the back like ears and a pair of gloves rested on top of the tactician's robe. Further inspection of the latter revealed metal bands sewn into the wrists.

"I see you took the trouble of completely reconfiguring my wardrobe," I remarked dryly. "I look like Link from the Legend of Zelda series."

"It took a long time to come up with all of that," Felix snapped in an injured tone. "Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to put together a whole outfit? For Pete's sake, the icon's smaller than my tooth!"

I shrugged. "I guess I can't go traipsing around the country in a T-shirt and jeans." Stooping over, I picked up the pieces of metal and turned them over in my hands. Leather straps and buckles were attached to the sides of many of them. "Hey, what are these?"

"Those are armor," Felix said. "Small, light pieces for you to wear, just in case something happens. See that one, the one that looks like a bracelet? That goes around your neck. It'll keep a stray arrow from finding a lodging place in your throat. Those two go on your forearms, and those on your knees, in case you need to hit the ground fast."

"How am I supposed to move in all of this?" I grumbled as I strapped them on and slipped the tactician's robe over my shoulders. "I have more layers than an artichoke. It looks impressive, but it's not very practical. Did you forget to take mobility into account again?"

He tactfully evaded my question. "You said you've played this game before, so why didn't you recognize Erk and Serra? They appear in Chapter Five."

"Well, I never got past Chapter Four," I said sheepishly.

Felix's indignant squawk was cut of when a loud, muffled _BOOM_ sounded outside, shaking the foundations of the room. Books slid from shelves to the floor, their pages fluttering like the wings of white birds. The door flew open and Erk stumbled in. His appearance was disheveled, as though he had run a long distance to get back to the infirmary. A slash of red showed through a rip on the left shoulder of his tunic. "Irene!" he gasped out. "We're under attack!"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

What's going on outside the castle? And what will happen to Irene?

I LOVE YOU!

Hah, that got your attention, didn't it?

I'll try to update again soon (I'm finally on break!) so you can find out what happens next. Please review and tell me what you liked and if there's anything I can do to make the characters more realistic.

Thanks, guys! Ciao!


	4. Tremors

A/N: Whew. It took me half a year to finish editing this part (it's still quite a mess, but please be patient with me!) and get it organized enough to put it down here. This rather patchworked bit of writing is the result of much disorganization and about two hundred different editing sessions, therefore producing conflicting ideas and general discord, along with about a thousand little parts that needed to be tied together.

As always, please tell me what you think and drop me some hints as to what I can improve on. I'd love to hear from you!

Special thanks to:

**Link015:** You rock! Thanks so much for encouraging and reminding me to keep at it! You are one the biggest forces behind my continued (if a bit broken up) fanfiction writing career! Your support helps in ways you have no idea of! (And yes, I was wondering why mercenaries were a separate category. I mean, weren't they technically _all_ mercs?) I'll try to update the others soon!

**Lemurian-Girl: **You, too, help me in countless ways! Thanks for sticking with me even on an OC story! Your comments are always so helpful! Danke schön!

**Lao Who Mai:** Fear the Serra! Run away! Ehehe, I love Serra very much; you'll be seeing much more of her in the next chapter! Thanks übermuch for your encouragement!

**The Incarnation Pokemon:** Wow! Two other OC Irenes? The possibilities are blinding… Your comments are hilarious! Thanks for the Mary-Sue/Gary-Stu advice! It is much appreciated!

**ShadowSight101:** Heya, Shadow-chan! You made an account! I'm so proud of you, mei-mei! Your writing's totally sweet! Good luck!

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"Under attack!" I shoved my stockinged feet into my boots and raced to his side. Digging in the pocket of my robe, I found a roll of bandage and a small jar of salve. I thanked my lucky stars that Felix had at least remembered _this_. "You're hurt! Hold on- let me fix that. What's going on?"

He drew in a sharp breath as I smoothed the salve over his shoulder. "Holy Elimine, that stings!"

"That probably means it's working," I said frankly. "What happened to you?"

"I was hiding from Serra up on the walltop when I saw a cloud of dust on the road ahead. It was a platoon of Laus's soldiers trying to retake the castle. I managed to sound the alarm before they reached the gates." The mage winced. "An arrow nicked me when I was running for help," he remarked dryly, eyeing the clumsy dressing, "although thanks to your wonderful bandaging attempts I doubt I'll die of blood loss."

"Don't mention it," I said, jamming the hat onto my head and slipping the armored gloves on. "Does the castle know?"

"About the soldiers? They're planning their defense and holding the gate right now." He tucked the ends of the bandage into his sleeve. "Let's go. They'll need us there."

I snatched Matthew's dagger and bundle of maps from the tabletop and grabbed the door handle. "You coming or what?"

We reached the walltop in time to hear another loud _boom!_ The wall shuddered as we were thrown to the floor of the parapet. I staggered upright, clutching my stomach. "What was that!"

"Battering ram!" a red-haired cavalier called over his shoulder, throwing a glance in our direction. His companion, another cavalier, this one in green armor, ran a scornful eye over the army massed below.

"Scurrilous Laus dogs! They don't know when to roll over and play dead!" The green-armored cavalier raised his lance, pointing it towards the army massed below. His eyes gleamed almost fanatically and I winced in apprehension. It was the same expression that crossed my brother's face when he was about to do something incredibly stupid. "I, the noble Sir Sain of Caelin, vow to vanish them all! Hah! Come, curs, and taste my lance!" Leaning over the walltop, he stuck his tongue out at the Laus invaders.

The red-haired cavalier grabbed the back of Sain's shirt and hauled him up as a score of arrows whistled overhead. "Sain, you idiot!" he yelled, clouting his companion on the head. "Don't provoke them! We're supposed to be defending the gate, not trading insults!"

"But Kent!" Sain protested, rubbing his head ruefully. "What will the ladies think when they hear that I simply stood here while the enemy gathered round our castle? Why, they'd hardly be impressed! Surely you of all people would understand my plight!"

"Start wondering what Sir Marcus will think if you turn us both into pincushions!" Kent retorted. "I doubt you'll impress anyone with an arrow through your head!" He looked over to his right at a brunet young man. "How's the oil coming, Wil?"

"Great!" replied the cheery-looking archer. A pretty girl with a pair of green braids waved at us from the other side of a large, bubbling vat. "Rebecca comes up with the best ideas!"

Rebecca gave him a thumbs-up. "Ready, Wil! Let's go!"

Together they pushed it to the edge of the wall. Each grasping a handle with both hands, they pulled hard. Boiling oil rushed out to engulf the Laus troops below, a deadly golden cascade of heat and agony. Screams pierced my ears as the scalding oil hit the battering ram crew. I heard Erk shout a word behind me; a fireball roared into existence, plummeting towards the Laus soldiers. As it hit the troops below, the oil caught fire and transformed the men into a swirling, tempestuous column of flame over twenty feet high. The smell of burning flesh filled the air.

The defenders gave a cheer and clapped the two archers on the back, retreating from wall's edge and away from the smoke that billowed upwards in smoky, broiling clouds, carrying with it the stench of charcoaled meat.

"Very clean," Kent approved, surveying the scene with a practiced eye and stepping away from the edge of the wall to avoid singeing the tip of his nose. "Well done, Rebecca."

"All right, Rebecca!" Wil cheered, giving his friend a high-five. "That was brilliant! Lady Lyndis couldn't have done it better herself!"

Rebecca grinned. "Thanks, Wil. See, I told you to pay attention during class instead of falling asleep like you always used to do. You actually _do_ learn stuff. Hey Erk, that fireball was a nice touch."

Erk looked down modestly. "Ah…" he murmured. "Thank you."

Sain slipped between the two archers and took her hands in his. "O lovely Rebecca, well done, well done! Your superb intelligence is only surpassed by your divine beauty!" he proclaimed. "A single glance from your angelic face stirs in my heart the strength of a thousand warriors! Ah, the fire of a vivacious young woman such as yourself lights my soul!"

Kent clapped a hand over his companion's mouth. "Are you a_ complete_ idiot?" demanded the cavalier of his friend, who was making indignant sounds beneath the impeding hand. "This is hardly the time for that!" He looked meaningfully at Rebecca, indicating the irritated Sain. "I'm sorry, Rebecca; those arrows must have come closer to his head than I thought."

The friends laughed as Sain made a rude gesture in the other knight's direction. As Wil leaned chuckling against the ramparts, he happened to glance my way. Immediately noticing that something was wrong, the archer frowned and moved away from the others, taking a step in my direction. "Hey, Erk, your friend- maybe you should take her inside. She doesn't look well at all."

While the others were celebrating I had stood as if rooted in place, paralyzed by the sight of the flames lapping hungrily at the castle walls. The heat of the fire seemed to reach even here, well away from the burning battering ram crew, pressing against my face in a red-gold wave. My knees buckled suddenly, and I slid to the floor, eyes locked on the fiery blaze. The smoke drifted over the walls, pressing in around me and filling my senses with the smell of burned hair and flesh. The scene wavered and changed before my eyes; for a moment I was back in the burning village, running as hard as I could from the bandit hard on my heels. Buildings lit afire by the torches of careless looters collapsed around me, spraying embers and debris everywhere. The screams of the soldiers merged with those of the villagers as they were butchered by the marauding axmen or burned to death under the fallen debris.

Then I felt a pair of hands on my shoulders, shaking me back into the present. Purple eyes stared intently into mine, searching. I breathed in deeply, letting the breath out slowly and letting reality seep back in. "I did it again, didn't I?" It was a statement, not a question.

Erk did not answer; grasping my hands, he helped me up. "It's all right," was all he said. The company had gone silent; every face, even that of the irrepressible Sain, wore a worried, apprehensive expression. The mage turned to the others, bringing me with him. "She's be fine," he told them. "It's an aftereffect of the painkillers; the line between reality and memory gets a bit blurred. The medicine's a hallucinogen." His face revealed nothing else.

"Who is this girl, Erk?" Kent finally asked. His eyes, orange and seeming almost red in the firelight, were fixed on me. "What is she doing up here on the battlements? It's a dangerous place for a child to be."

I gulped and met his gaze. "Sir, I- I'm-" I managed to say. My voice squeaked an octave or two higher than usual, much to my embarrassment. Heavens, those eyes were unnerving! "My name's Irene."

"I didn't ask for your name; I asked who you are. You look too young to be a Caelin soldier, and I haven't seen your face on the training grounds before."

"A search party scouring the area for remaining bandits found her half-buried under some smoldering rubble," Erk stepped in smoothly. "Apparently she's the sole survivor of the northeastern village of Pinesgard. She was spending the night there when the bandits burned it down. The fire must have scared her."

I nodded, eyes downcast. _Trust Erk to cover for me,_ I thought with an inward sigh of relief. _That's two I owe him._

Rebecca drew in a deep breath. "That's awful. Erk, you should take her back down into the keep. She shouldn't have to see this."

"We need him here," argued Kent. "You're right about the girl, though. Irene, is it? You should go back inside. You might get hurt."

I gathered my resolve and shook my head. Kent's eyes hardened. "Irene-"

A rain of arrows cut of any chance of further argument. We hit the floor as the volley whistled overhead and struck a turret behind us, bouncing harmlessly off of the walls and clattering onto the stones. Kent instantly took charge of the situation. "Archers and mage, stay here and keep them pinned down. Don't let them get back to the battering ram, and if they do, make sure they drop it _fast_," he ordered. The pair of archers nodded and began to fit arrows to their bows. Erk flipped open the book he had taken from the infirmary and started to recite passages in a foreign, archaic tongue. Kent glanced at me. "Little girl, if you won't listen to common sense and go back down, you'd better be ready to follow orders. This isn't an epic or ballad; people _will_ get hurt and die." His voice was stern. "This is real life, and this is war. There's no guarantee that you'll come out alive. Are you still bent on doing this?"

I nodded. "Yes, sir."

Kent shook his head. "This is going against my better judgment," he muttered. "All right, girl, see those towers over there? I need you to go and gather the arrows that landed on that far parapet. Stay low and bring as many back as you can carry. No sense in wasting valuable ammunition." He turned to the knight beside him. "Sain, make yourself useful and check up on the back wall. And don't stop to chat with the ladies on the way!" he added when the other cavalier's eyes grew bright. "Stay focused! This is a siege!"

"Spoilsport," the green-armored knight muttered as he jogged off.

Ducking down to avoid the enemy's arrows, I half-crawled, half-slithered towards the far watchtower. Gathering up a bundle of arrows, I removed my hat and shoved them point-first inside of it. Then, my makeshift sack clutched tightly in hand, I made my way back to where Kent and company were repelling the invaders. Rebecca held in her hands a bow the size of which I had never seen before. The tip of the massive yew weapon stretched about two inches above her head, around which a well-waxed bowstring was stretched tautly. The arrows were the length of short swords, with formidable armor-piercing tips. Searching through my bundle of arrows, I found a couple that matched hers and slipped them into her quiver. As I sidled cautiously around her to reload Wil's, I couldn't help but whisper, "For Pete's sakes, what kind of bow is _that?_ It's enormous!"

"It's a longbow," he replied, sighting down his arrow. "Those things have far more range than the kind I'm using. You could probably take down an enemy at about one hundred and eighty yards with one."

I eyed the bow with a profound sense of respect. "Really, now? Someday I'm going to have to learn more about these longbows of yours."

"You won't get the chance if you're hit by a stray arrow while you stand here yakking away," a familiar voice snapped. Matthew had come up behind us, a wicket basket piled high with little orbs of high-fired clay under each arm. He and his companion, a slender Sacaean youth with green, almond-shaped eyes and a fat black sack slung over his shoulder, deposited their loads on the floor. I noticed that the sack seemed to pulse with a faint, flickering glow. "What's going on? If that half-witted mage Erk brought you up here, I swear I'll-" He broke off, ducking just in time to dodge an enemy arrow. He swore and lowered his voice. "Don't you know it's dangerous? This is not a game, Irene. You might get injured."

"I'm not fooling around," I snapped. "I'm helping, Matthew, and I know the risks. Sir Kent already jammed them down my ear once, and an encore isn't likely to make me change my mind."

"That's not what I meant. That idiot could have at least put you behind a wall or something instead of leaving you out in the open. There are countless magical defenses he could have used, like these light runes for example." He indicated the sack on the ground. "Even a novice should know to protect the weaker units. You're supposed to be a tactician- you should at least act like one."

"Let's just say I'm working on it. What're these light rune things you're talking about?"

"Erk didn't explain light runes? What's that mage been teaching you about this whole time?"

"One can hardly become all-knowing in the eternal period of two weeks," I told him sweetly. "Might we discuss this later? I'd rather not get hit by a stray arrow while we stand here yakking away."

Kent clanked around the corner, a bundle of javelins in hand. When he spotted the thief and the young Sacaean- who, due to Erk's lecture earlier that morning, I identified as a myrmidon- he made his way towards us. "Matthew, I've been looking for you all morning! Did you get them?"

Matthew chuckled and nodded towards the basket. "Of course. You'd be surprised what you can find around here, Sir Kent. There are all kinds of goodies in the villages nearby." His expression turned sly. "Oh, and I see you've put Irene to work already. Why weren't you more prudent with her personal defense? Lord Hector will have a fit if you accidentally kill our army's new tactician."

It was so quiet that I was sure that everyone on the walltop and below had stopped breathing. _I_ had, at any rate, and by the look on Kent's face it seemed that he had too.

Matthew feigned astonishment. "My goodness, you really didn't know? Irene's only an apprentice, of course, but since Mark, our last tactician, was slain in battle, she'll be taking his place. That would make her our army's head tactician. Technically, our _only_ tactician, but hey- who knows? Maybe we'll pick up a couple more on our way. They seem to be turning up in the strangest places recently."

"Tactician," Kent echoed finally, his voice sounding choked. "_Tactician._"

"_Tactician?_" I squeaked, breaking through my shock just enough for my throat to squeeze out that one little word.

"Yes, tactician," Matthew repeated patiently. "I didn't think I made it _that_ hard to understand. I'll be right back. I have another load to bring up. Come on, Guy," he called to the Sacaean myrmidon. "I'll need your help with this one too."

Guy opened his mouth, but the thief reached behind him and tugged sharply on the braid hanging down his back. The young man yelped and grabbed at the back of his head. "Yowch! Why can't you just leave me alone, y-you infernal thief?" he demanded, his face taking on the hue of Erk's cape.

"You're just too much fun to tease," Matthew grinned. "Besides, your face reminds me of a pomegranate when you're mad."

The myrmidon turned even redder at that. People in Elibe seemed very prone to odd coloration, I noted. "S-shut up!" he snapped, clenching his fists. Matthew snickered and danced away from the irate myrmidon, skipping down the stairs with Guy in hot pursuit. "Coward!" The Sacaean swung at the agile thief, who ducked the blow easily. "Get back here and fight!"

"Later, Irene," came Matthew's cheery reply as he bounded down and out of sight.

I gulped as I watched Guy race after him, seeming to almost fly down the stairs. "I hope Matthew'll be all right," I muttered, turning back to the edge of the walltop. However, the look on Kent's face stopped me in my tracks. _Forget Matthew- time to worry about my own safety,_ I thought, suddenly cold all over.

"You-" Kent's voice was hoarse; he looked as stunned as I felt, his face livid. "Why didn't you tell me you were a tactician?"

"What do you mean I didn't tell you?" I demanded, suddenly furious. Why didn't anyone tell _me_ anything? I'd had no idea that Matthew was going to thrust me into this role, and then the gall of this- this- "You never gave me a chance!"

"You should have told me straight from the start!" Kent's eyes were the color of molten steel, seeming almost as if they could sear my face like the flames that had raged below only moments before.

I was done with being burned; it was time to burn him back. "Look, you pompous knight-" I hissed.

I never got any further than that, however, for the enemy took the momentary pause to charge. Something heavy slammed into the weathered gates with a sickening _crunch_. The castle shuddered again from the vicious attack, knocking us off of our feet and causing the archers to drop their weapons. Kent braced himself and caught me as I was thrown back against him, keeping us both from tumbling from the wall. I winced as I struck the cavalier's breastplate; the armor was iron-hard and my back was still sore. Erk lurched forward over the side; Rebecca grabbed his cloak from behind as he pitched towards the edge and hauled him back.

"They've got another battering ram!" he gasped when he was on solid stone again. "This one's twice as long and has three times as many troops manning it! The gates won't stand much longer!"

Kent swore vehemently, pressing back against the tower's side as a sudden rain of arrows rattled overhead. "Damn it! Just what we need!" He set me down, placing me against the wall out of harm's way. The cavalier raked agitated fingers through his hair, his entire frame tense with apprehension. "What next? Pegasus knights armed with javelins?"

"Don't tempt fate," drawled a voice in my ear. "Think how disappointed Lord Hausen will be if he wakes up to find his castle in ruins." I suppressed a startled gasp and whirled around, unconsciously scrunching up against Kent. It was Matthew, his trademark half-grin on his face as usual despite the gravity of the situation. The thief and his myrmidon companion were back, lugging a large laundry basket between them. Instead of dirty clothes, however, this was filled with kindling and dry brush. Matthew let go of his end as he turned to salute Kent and me, causing Guy to stagger as the entire weight of the burden suddenly tipped to his end of the basket. The basket landed with a solid _thump,_ coming down squarely on his toes. As the Sacaean cursed and tried to pry his foot out from under the weight, Matthew winked at me and murmured, "We've got much work to do, haven't we, Tactician Irene?"

"Why didn't you tell _me_ that I was a tactician?" I demanded, glaring up at him. "You could have at least warned me before you pulled that last little joke of yours."

He grinned. "That wouldn't have been half as fun. So, what's the plan, Little Irene? We're boxed in and the enemy's eyeing that gate as potential firewood. We don't have the men to hold the castle if they manage to breach the entrance. You're up to your neck in this one, I'm afraid."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I remarked dryly, eyeing the battering ram crew as they backed down the dirt path, their commander barking orders and making sharp gestures with his spear. "This is going to make for one heck of a first assignment. What's the enemy count?"

"Two scores." Matthew shaded his eyes, peering down at the men milling around on the ground below. "Five archers, two mages, and assorted foot soldiers, myrmidons, mercs, and the like."

I bit my lip, narrowing my eyes against the glare of the noonday sun. This wasn't going to be easy. _So much for the in-game tutorial,_ a voice in my head grumbled. "What do we have in terms of men? Archers? Mages?"

Matthew did a mental count. "Including those of us up here… almost one score. As for archers and mages, what you see is what you've got." He pointed to Erk, Rebecca, and Wil, who were busy flinging projectiles down at the Laus soldiers below. "Not much to work with, Irene, but it's all we have."

I muttered something obscene under my breath. "Outnumbered more than two to one? How are we supposed to get out of this one alive?"

"That's very encouraging coming from our army's head tactician," Matthew murmured softly. "Come on, Irene. You can do this."

I drew in a deep breath, willing my heart to stop fluttering wildly around in my chest. At the rate it was going, it was bound to impale itself on one of my ribs. "What are our specifics? Axes? Swords? Lances?"

"We have three axmen, four mounted horsemen, including one who can use lances, axes, and swords, and two healers." The thief ticked off the numbers on his fingers. "There's a servant of Elimine here too, along with a pegasus knight and four or so swordsmen, minus myself. Oh yes, and one of those armored knights who look like walking trash cans."

"A servant of Elimine?" I asked, my mind sorting pieces of new information and rearranging them like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Little bits were clicking together to form bigger ones, and by shifting them around I was starting to piece together the beginnings of a plan.

Guy had limped over to join us, having freed his foot from underneath the laundry basket. Now he stood next to Matthew and me, a bundle of arrows under one arm. "That'd be a person- one of the clergy in service to Saint Elimine of Light- who wields light magic." He brushed his bangs away from the headband that unsuccessfully attempted to keep them from falling across his face with one hand, green eyes intent on the troops. "Things are getting pretty ugly down there," he observed.

"Light magic is strong against heavily-armored units and those on horseback." Matthew scratched one ear and added, "Light mages also have high resistance to other magical attacks."

"Thanks," I murmured absently. The sound of shouted instructions floating up from the enemy's camp was very distracting. Light mages? Erk had mentioned light magic on the first day of lessons, but that had been so long ago…. And a pegasus knight? I vaguely remembered something about a pegasus knight from Chapter Three. High movement and resistance to magic, but vulnerable to arrows; and, and…. That was all that I could remember. There was something else I was missing, but what….?

The wall convulsed again, and I decided that I was out of time. "Matthew, what're those things you have over there? The ones in the basket?"

"Oh, these?" He indicated the wicket basket containing curious little clay balls. "Those are something a village woman came up with some time ago. It's amazing what people can do when they have a little extra time on their hands. We modified them a bit so that they can be set off when exposed to combustion instead of waiting for an unlucky someone to step on one. They're called mines."

My mouth went dry. "Mines?" I whispered. "You have _mines?_"

Guy hefted the black sack he had brought up earlier and spilled the contents onto the floor. Fist-sized glass globes that shone brightly rolled across the stones. "And these too," the Sacaean myrmidon added, nudging one with a foot. "These little beauties blind the enemy and trap them inside walls of light when placed in a circle around them. They're called light runes."

As I leaned back against the wall, chewing thoughtfully on the tip of one of my braids, I bumped into something on the ground. It was the basket of kindling. Something clicked mentally; I glanced back at the thief, a wry smile on my face. "Mines, of all things. _Mines_, and you just _happen_ to have enough wood to build a bonfire the size of Castle Caelin." Matthew gave a half-shrug and grinned. "Erk, if we set the mines and kindling up, can you take care of the rest?"

He nodded, his eyes never leaving the battlefield as he called lightning down to fry three foot soldiers. "Leave it to me. This isn't easy, though, and I'm starting to feel drained, so be careful to get it exactly right. For a fire that big, I won't have enough in me for a second shot."

Great, more to worry about. "And the light runes?" I asked Matthew.

"Lucius can set those off," Guy interjected. "I can fetch 'm if you'd like."

I nodded and he darted down the stairs, resurfacing moments later with a slender, white-robed girl following in his wake. She was heartbreakingly beautiful, with pale, delicate skin, wide blue eyes, and long, blonde tresses that flowed down her back like a cascade of gold. I felt a slight twinge of envy; even her smile was perfect, filled with white, even teeth and glowing with sincerity. She exuded a kind of serene beauty that I knew I could never match, like a candle in a dark room. If I had even one iota-

_Stop that!_ scolded that little voice in my head called common sense. _The enemy's knocking at the gates, and what are you doing? Get a move on! This is hardly the time for that!_

Irritating though it was, the voice was right. I banished that particular thought to the back of my head and bowed politely. "Um, hello. I'm Irene, the new tactician. I don't believe we've met before, have we?"

She smiled that radiant smile again, a masterpiece worthy of either a Van Gough painting or one of the pictures in my dentist's office. "I don't believe we have. My name is Lucius. It's wonderful meeting you, Irene." Her voice was sweet and melodic, like the ringing of silver bells.

I found myself smiling back. Despite my misgivings, it was hard not to like someone so charming. "The pleasure's all mine," I assured her. "Ah, so you're the servant of Elimine Matthew told me about?"

She inclined her head, looking rather like a princess out of one of my little sister's storybooks. Definitely the dentist's office. "Yes, I've heard that term before. You require my light magic?"

"Yes, please. Guy says you can set off the light runes. If you could help us out with that, I couldn't thank you enough." I paused, remembering another part of Erk's lectures. Something wasn't quite right here. "Are you a healer?"

She shook her head, her golden locks drifting around her hips. "No, I'm afraid not. While some of the sisters here are skilled in that area, my field is slightly different. I specialize in combat magic."

I blinked. Combat magic? According to what Erk had told me, women pledged to Elimine were either clerics or bishops. However, it took a long time to achieve the status of bishop, which discouraged many lukewarm clerics from taking that particular path. That was why it was usually only the elderly abbesses who could use combat magic.

Lucius couldn't be much more than eighteen. How advanced _was_ this girl?

That didn't matter- now we had an extra mage! "That's even better!" I clapped my hands together, beaming up at her. "You have no idea how thrilled I am to hear that!" I turned to Guy. "Could you go the pegasus knight for me? Great! And Lucius, could you help us pin down the battering ram crew until she gets here?"

Lucius murmured her consent. Flipping open a slender book with a white cover, the priestess glided over to join Wil and the other defenders at the wall's edge, the edges of her form beginning to glow even as she approached them.

As I unrolled a map of the surrounding area, Matthew raised an inquisitive eyebrow at me. "What are you planning to do, Irene?"

I flinched. Unwilling to give up, the thief pressed, "This castle is old. It's seen too many wars and battles to be anywhere as steady as it was in the past. Two magic users and two archers aren't enough to keep those Laus soldiers at bay. Even Florina- that's the pegasus knight- won't be much help if she's shot down by an archer."

"Tell me, Matthew." I didn't meet his eyes. "Were those Laus soldiers the ones who burned down Pinesgard?"

Matthew glanced at me. "No. It was a group of bandits from the mountains who ravaged Pinesgard. It wasn't the soldiers- but they did nothing to prevent the attack, though they could easily have defended the village."

"You mean they just stood there?" My hands were clenched into fists; I could feel them shaking. This time, however, it wasn't with fear. It was fury that ran flaming hot in my veins, burning deep in my heart. "You mean they could have stopped it from happening? They could have wiped out those bandits? They could have saved all of those lives- but they didn't? Instead, they left the villagers of Pinesgard to die at the hands of those monsters?" I took a deep breath. "Maybe _they_ didn't burn Pinesgard down to the ground. Maybe _they_ didn't make orphans and widows of the few tortured people who managed to survive. Maybe _they_ didn't rape, loot, and pillage- but by leaving the people at the mercy of heartless bandits, those soldiers murdered those villagers just as well as if they had been the ones soaked up to the elbows in blood."

"When the circumstances are terrible enough, human nature can be an ugly thing," Kent murmured. He had come up from behind, a lance in hand. Now he stood by my side, watching the archers shoot, reload, and reshoot over and over again. His eyes came to rest on me. They were neither angry nor offended; instead, they were infused with a cool, steady calm. "Sometimes disasters bring out the worst in us. Even the most noble of us can be corrupted by greed, lust, or envy. Even the very people you thought you could trust with your life fall prey to their own desires. These soldiers were motivated only by personal gain. What was there for them to obtain by defending dirt-poor peasants? Absolutely nothing."

I flushed and looked down, thoroughly ashamed of myself. "Sir Kent, about earlier…" I mumbled. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't really mean what I said. I shouldn't have called you pompous. I was angry, and I was being rash. I'm just an apprentice, and this _is_ my first assignment. It might have helped if Matthew had told me that I was supposed to be the army's tactician _before_ the battle started."

The knight fixed his gaze on Matthew, who stared back, absolutely dripping with innocence. "Yes?" the thief asked blandly.

Kent threw him a look of utter disgust. When he glanced back at me, his expression was one of dry amusement. "Ah. That explains quite a bit, wouldn't you say, Irene?"

I coughed guiltily. Then Matthew interjected: "Well, little missy, now that we've been… erm, enlightened on those points, why don't you explain what you have in mind for our guests?"

I turned back to the doorway that lead to Caelin's keep, my expression bleak. Guy was leading an orchid-haired girl in riding gear up the steps; the girl seemed to shrink back against the walls, keeping the maximum distance away from her escort. Despite this unusually strong aversion to the young Sacaean, she seemed utterly fearless of the enormous beast that trotted behind them. Clasped tightly in her hand were the reins of a magnificent, white-winged pegasus.

My eyes wandered over the supplies, stopping at the bundle of javelins and the hamper of kindling. From behind the pile of brush peeked that ever-present little wicket basket of mines. There was so much potential power, so much possible destruction packed into those tiny, innocuous-looking balls, just waiting to be tapped into. A single one of them would set the men below into a state of chaos, blowing bodies apart, scattering limbs and ripping through flesh like-

I stopped myself and shuddered. There was no possible way that I could order the Caelin soldiers to carry out the plan that I had in mind. There was no possible way that I could make _myself_ carry out the plan that I had in mind. _I'm no soldier!_ I cried out in the depths of my mind. _I'm no hardened mercenary used to war! I'm supposed to be at home studying for next year's AP exams, not planning the murder of dozens of people! I _can't_ do this!_

But I would. For the sake of my friends, for the sake of the people of Pinesgard, I would, even if it meant sacrificing my own humanity to do so.

"I have an idea." I swallowed hard. "But you aren't going to like it."

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The commander of Laus's forces craned his neck and peered up at the top of the wall, shading his eyes against the brightness of the sun. The barrage of arrows and magic had stopped, but not before claiming the lives of all five of his archers and four others. Now the walltop was strangely quiet. Not a single living thing stirred; an eerie silence hung over the ramparts like a heavy velvet mantle. The hair on the back of his neck prickled. Something wasn't right here.

A loud clattering sound startled the foot soldiers; men ducked beneath hastily-raised shields as branches and bits of wood rained down on them. The missiles clattered over the polished metal faces of the soldiers' shields and armor to the path below. The commander threw up the visor of his helmet and stared at the kindling and little clay balls littering the ground. Sticks. That was it. No arrows, no thunderbolts or blasts or anything remotely dangerous. Just sticks and dry brush. Shakily he began to laugh, more out of relief and an attempt to calm his rattled nerves than actual mirth. "Sticks! Look at that!" he crowed. "They've run out of ammunition! They're so desperate that they're throwing their firewood at us! We've won! We've got them now!"

There was a flutter of wings, a rush of wind overhead, and a white shape launched itself from the battlements into the sky. A single pegasus knight wheeled overhead, its rider clutching a bundle of javelins. With precise accuracy, the slim rider hurled the spears at the troops milling below. As the men leapt out of the way, they failed to notice the little fist-sized pouches tied to the shafts of the weapons; nor did they see that the fallen javelins, tips buried deep in the grassy turf, formed a neat crescent around them.

Mages sent fireballs racing towards the knight, hoping to scorch the rider out of the sky. Dipping and weaving, the pegasus batted the magic bolts away from its passenger with its brilliant white wings, staying just out of range. As girl and mount pulled back, a rain of arrows sailed over the walltop. Weighed down with identical pouches, they closed the gap between javelins to form a complete ring around Laus's troops.

Too late, the commander realized his mistake and screamed for his troops to retreat. There was a bright flash of light from the walltop, and a blinding radiance flared up in front of the soldiers' faces. Startled, they leapt back with shouts and yells. Flailing limbs connected with the barrier cast by the pouches of light runes. A cried word rang out from above; a stream of fire erupted from the clear blue sky. As the ravenous flames engulfed the little clay balls, the mines detonated in a searing blast of heat and noise. The ground exploded from under their feet, tearing the remaining Laus soldiers apart in a flash of blazing light and utter agony. Chunks of charred flesh and pieces of armor were incinerated before touching the ground.

All around them, the wall of light glowed intensely as it battled to contain the massive burst of energy. The circle of runes became a boiling column of smoke rising to the heavens, unable to escape anywhere but straight up. As the fumes cleared and the column slowly dissipated, little gray flakes of ash drifted down into the enormous crater where Laus's forces had made their last stand. The only thing that remained of men, horses, and armor was the pale gray shower that slid down the sides of the crater to form a pile in the middle of the gaping hole. A little gray pile, the last traces of what had once been the peerless army of Laus.

Up on the walltop, no one said a word. The deafening blast that had obliterated the remnant of Laus had stunned the occupants into complete silence. The flakes continued to fall, fluttering down like a polluted snowfall. Absurdly, I wondered if there would be enough ash to walk through once it all settled. I had an unshakeable feeling that if, at this very moment, I stepped through the gates and onto that soft gray carpet below, my footsteps would remain there, indelible, for all of eternity.

The silence was broken by a sudden clattering sound. The company started; people whipped around in the direction the noise had come from. An arrow had slipped from Wil's nerveless fingers to fall to the stones below. The archer stared, ashen-faced, up at the sky, where the flecks continued their relentless shower. A clump drifted past his face; he flinched away from it, recoiling as if it was a poisonous snake. His expression was horror-stricken.

Slowly, as if time had slackened to a crawl, the company turned as one to fix their gazes on me. Those looks were filled with a mixture of fear and trepidation, dread even. I forced myself to look away from them, feeling those eyes burn deep into me. Instead, I turned to Kent. Meeting his eyes, my voice broke the silence.

"Kent…." After that first word, the horrible reality of what had happened- what _I'd_ done- hit me full force like a punch to the stomach. Something in my heart splintered and broke; tears welled up in my eyes and spilled down my cheeks, but I couldn't bring myself to wipe them away. "Oh, Kent, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." My voice cracked. _They're dead. They're dead._ "It worked, but it wasn't- I didn't-" _No!_ my heart screamed. _No, no, no, NO! They can't be-_

_They're dead._

Sliding down to the stone floor, I buried my face in my hands and sobbed.

The orange-haired cavalier was silent. When at last he spoke, he said only this: "Well done, Tactician Irene."

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A/N: I have this horrible sinking feeling in my stomach that I'm going to get shot by hardcore fangirls for my unorthadox use of light runes.

Thanks for sticking with me all the way to Chapter Four! (And when Irene mentioned Chapter Three, she meant in the game, not in this fic. Sorry!)

Oh, and could you do me a quick little favor? If you drop me a review (or even if you don't), please mention your favorite Fire Emblem pairing (minus Path of Radiance; I've yet to play that one… ;; ), least favorite one, and your reasoning somewhere in it. Don't ask- you'll have to find out!

Thanks so much, guys! Tschüß!


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